


Getting Dressed

by Winstonian1



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Gen, References to the Beatles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22877389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winstonian1/pseuds/Winstonian1
Summary: A brief interlude, in which George has to hurry to get dressed and go to the recording studio, leaving Pattie in bed. Fluff.
Kudos: 5





	Getting Dressed

“It is the nightingale and not the lark that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear.”  
“Yer wha’?”  
Pattie giggled, and tightened her hold around his back as he lay across her on the bed. “I mean, you don’t have to get up yet.” She squeezed him harder and he grunted. “Don’t go.”  
“I have.” George pushed himself more upright so that he could look down on her. Her golden hair was spread across the pillow and strands lay across her face. He brushed them away, and kissed her nose, and then her mouth. “What was all that stuff?” He kissed her again, lightly.  
“What stuff?”  
“About nightingales and that.”  
Her arms moved up and she clasped her hands behind his neck. “We did it at school.”  
George frowned in confusion. “Did what at school? What’yer going on about?”  
She laughed again. Not because his puzzlement was particularly amusing but just because she felt so happy that she just wanted to laugh.  
“Romeo and Juliet. I was Juliet.”  
George tried again to push himself up and away from her but again she tightened her arms around him and hauled him back down towards her. He landed with his head on her pillow, his face towards the hollow of her neck. “Pattie!” he exclaimed, laughing. His breath tickled her neck. “I have to get up!”  
“No you don’t.”  
“Yes I do.”  
He lay still for a while. They were so close he realised that their breathing was in unison. Pattie turned her face towards him, and they kissed again. He lifted his arm and ran his fingers through her hair again. He loved doing that.  
“I do have to go,” he whispered.  
“No.”  
“Yes.” He pushed himself away again, and she allowed her fingers to trail down his arms as he sat up on the edge of the bed. “They’re sending a car. I can’t be like this when they arrive.”  
She giggled again; but this time did nothing to try and prevent him getting up. Her fingertips continued to trail, down his hip and thigh and then he was standing and they weren’t touching any more. Pattie pulled the bedclothes up and over herself and snuggled down into the bed.  
George watched her enviously. “Shower,” he said, and turned and walked towards the bathroom. Pattie watched as he went, her eyes on every movement, every slide of muscle, every gleam of light on smooth skin. As he stepped through the bathroom door he turned his head to look back at her, and the expression in his eyes told her that he’d been fully aware of her meticulous examination of his progress across the room. He grinned, his adorable crooked endearing grin, and then the bathroom door closed between them. She lay, cuddled up in the blankets, listening to him bushing his teeth in her bathroom with the toothbrush he kept there, and then the sound of the shower being turned on; waiting, relaxed, and then the shower sound stopped. When he reemerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist and his hair still soaked, all he could see of Pattie was the top of her head and her wide blue eyes above the covers. Her eyes were smiling at him.  
“Alright for you,” he said. He pulled the towel off from round him and threw it over his head and rubbed vigorously at the thick dark hair.  
“Why?” But he didn’t hear her.  
“Why?” she asked again when he stopped drying his hair and faced her, hair wild and face flushed.  
“Why what?”  
“Why’s it alright for me?”  
He smiled. “Cos you can stay in bed, and I have to go to the studio.”  
“Stay here then.”  
“I can’t!”  
“I know.” She shuffled the covers down a little so that he could see her whole face. “Come here for a moment.”  
George grinned at her again. “You must be joking!” He turned away from her and reached onto a chair for the underwear he’d left there. “I’d never get away.”  
“That’s not my fault.”  
He grabbed the trousers which had been slung equally casually onto the chair and climbed into them. “I didn’t say it was,” he smiled at her as he zipped himself up. “What time is it?  
Pattie squinted at the clock next to the bed. “8.20.”  
“Oh Jesus!”  
Pattie pushed herself to a sitting position in the bed, drawing the sheets up under her arms to cover herself. George’s urgency had finally communicated itself to her and she realised regretfully that the time really had come for him to leave. She watched, silently, as he pulled on his shirt, which somehow still had the tie stuck under the collar. He came back towards the bed and sat, but this time right at the end of the bed, out of reach of affectionate arms. He smiled at her again, ruefully this time, as he buttoned up the shirt and lifted the collar to straighten it. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.  
She nodded. “What time?”  
He pushed himself to his feet again and tucked the shirt into the trousers. “Dunno. There’s a photoshoot after the studio. What are you doing?”  
“I’ve got to go for a fitting.”  
“Where?”  
“South Moulton Street.”  
“What time?”  
“Twoish.”  
“OK.” He lifted his chin to tie his tie, and Pattie used the time to admire his profile and the arch of his neck. “Can I phone you when I know?”  
She nodded; he turned around to look for his jacket, which he found hanging on the door handle. As he shrugged himself into it she reached out towards him. “They’re not here yet. Come back here for a minute?”  
George straightened the jacket, and then shuffled his fingers through his rapidly drying hair to try to push it into some sort of a style. Then he looked round at her, and grinned.  
It was a wicked grin.  
He was still making his way across the carpet towards her when the door buzzer sounded. “Nnnooo!!” Pattie thumped her hand onto the bed in, not entirely, mock anger. “Too soon!!”  
George picked the wall phone off its rest and spoke into it. “Yeah?”  
“Car for George.”  
“Coming.” He replaced the phone on its rest, and again turned towards her. She held out her arms, and he was there, in seconds, and they held each other very tightly. They kissed, and hugged again.  
“I love you,” he said into her neck.  
“Love you.”  
“Will you marry me?”  
“No.”  
“Oh, go on. Please.”  
She drew away from him enough to smile, her luminous smile which melted him. “Ok then,” she whispered, and he kissed her again.  
”Gotta go.”  
George put on the one boot he could easily find, and then searched for the other one, finding it under a chair. Then he stood, suited, booted, smart and infinitely regretful, one hand on the door handle and dark brown eyes full of love. “See you tonight.” He opened the door, stared searchingly at her one more time, and then closed the door behind him.


End file.
